


hurricane season

by bombcollar



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Bad Weather, Gen, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-18 02:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombcollar/pseuds/bombcollar
Summary: An encounter with a military recruiter leaves the whole team a little shaken up.





	1. Part I

_Roughie's_ wasn't the ideal meeting location, but in weather like this they had the place basically to themselves. The restaurant was a sports bar, with various pieces of memorabilia decorating the walls and tv screens at all sorts of angles. Most of them rerun highlights from earlier in the year, but a few focus on the storm, showing the same harried-looking barracuda weather reporter. Eging's Jr.'s dad owned the place, so the team was entitled to free food whenever they visited. Right now the only other people in the building were the cook and one the hosts, huddled in the back, probably watching their phones for evacuation warnings. Perhaps it was not the most elegant of dining establishments, but it was dry and warm and best of all in this weather, not far from any of their homes.

Tropical storms blew through Inkopolis every fall, but the city was well-prepared for it structurally. Life went on, cars sloshing through the semi-flooded streets, gutters roaring as water endlessly streamed into them. Being stuck inside made any Inkling restless, but practicing outdoors was simply not an option, and any indoor venue would be completely crammed full with the rain going on more than a week now. The wait times would make any attempt to use them completely inhumane. 

Thunder rattles the hanging wine glasses behind the bar. "A palm tree fell into our pool," Prince says, dipping a mozzarella stick in marinara sauce. "A bunch of fronds came off and clogged up the filter. Our dad's kind of freaking out about it, even though he doesn't even use the pool..."

"That's rough, dude." Eging leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "What about your other dad?"

"They're doing re-shoots so he has to be on set. He hasn't been home in like a month."

"Mm," the other squid hums in sympathy, turning to look at their team leader. Emperor had been quiet since they'd arrived, frowning at his tablet as he sketched, ever-preparing for the battles to come.  Not being able to try any of this out made him anxious, like an itch that couldn't be scratched. There was only so much one could do with simulations. 

Pacer sips her bubble tea at his side, watching raindrops trace their way down the windows. "My cousin lives up in the mountains. Said a landslide took her neighbor's entire house out."

"Oh... Were they okay?" Prince asks.

"Yeah, they have another house in West Beluga, they weren't in it at the time." Pacer pulls her phone out of her pocket. “My mom sent me the video, you want to see?”

“...maybe later.” They'd already heard about at least two beach houses getting completely blown away, but come spring everything would be back how it was. If you could afford a house on the beach in Inkopolis, you could afford to rebuild it again in the same place. Just the phrase,  _ beach house _ , suggested a level of hedonism most Inklings could only dream of, when the vast majority of the population lived in inter-city apartments, squished together like sardines.

“We should go to your sister’s house next time,” Pacer says, replaying the video for herself, the sound muted.

Prince nods, glad to be off the subject, and pushes the cardboard carton of mozzarella sticks over to his brother. He didn't particularly want to think about landslides right now, or see the video. Hopefully Pacer would just forget about it. "Do you want one? I can't eat them all."

It takes Emperor a moment to notice the offer, lifting his stylus from the tablet and blinking. He opens his mouth to say no thank you, because even as blunt as he could be, he wasn't going to tell Prince to his face that those cheese sticks were disgusting and he didn't understand how anybody could eat them, but then the door opens, damp air and rain gusting in along with an Inkling, clutching his raincoat hood over his head and trying to wrangle an umbrella. The team looks over, Emperor frowning again, not expecting them to be interrupted when nobody in their right mind would be out in this weather. 

The new Inkling manages to get his umbrella under control, shoving the glass doors shut again and sighing, shaking his hood off his head. He looked to be in his 20s, with short, dark purple tentacles pulled back into a ponytail and thick-rimmed black sunglasses. As he unzips his raincoat it becomes clear he’s wearing a uniform, white with black trim and a subtle camo pattern. What would someone from the military be doing here? They were rarely seen dressed like this outside of public holidays or parades celebrating the country’s prowess. 

He looks over, raising his eyebrows as he notices the team. “Oh, hey! I remember you guys, I watched you play a couple weeks ago. Really lucked out with the weather back then... You’re Team Emperor, yeah?” 

“That’s right,” Pacer says, chasing a stray boba ball around with her straw and glancing out the window at the flooded streets. “We’re not being evacuated, are we?”

“Oh, no, no, not yet anyway.” The older squid drops his umbrella into the holster near the door and turns back to them, spreading his hands. “Name’s Naso, by the way. Didn’t expect to find you guys in here. I gotta say, your coordination? Your teamwork? It's just-" He closes his eyes and puts his fingers to his lips in a chef's kiss. "Mwah, it's just incredible, never seen anything like it."

"We don't need somebody like you to tell us what we already know," Emperor says, barely looking up from his tablet. He had a sneaking suspicion this guy wasn’t being entirely truthful. After all, who be outside in a storm like this unless they had a specific purpose, an opportunity they absolutely could not miss. "Get to the point." 

Eging is quick to add, "We don't need another sponsor either, if that's what you're getting at." Enperry already paid for the team's gear and weapons, and just about anything else they needed, from water bottles to bandages. Emperor and Prince's family owned the company, their dad (the one who'd flipped out about the palm tree in the pool) acting as CEO. Why angle for sponsors when they were hatched into such prestigious connections? It would be a waste of time.

“Well, you see,” Naso continues, “I’m here on behalf of the Squid Army Corps. We could really use young, fresh talent like yourselves. People with great synergy and leadership skills. Plus you get to keep your country safe while also learning how to use some of the most advanced weapons tech available. You really can’t lose.”

The team exchanges glances, apart from Prince who was staring very hard at his plate. He hadn’t admitted it to any of his teammates or his brother, but he’d had his talk with his dad not too long ago.  _ You’re always following your brother around like a remora after a shark; you should think about finding a place of your own. I’ve seen your matches, you’re never smiling. Are you sure this is really what you want to do? I got you these pamphlets, take a look at them when you get a chance.  _ The pamphlets still sat under his pillow. He’d read them, brochures for various glossy military academies, but even considering leaving the team felt like a betrayal. Emperor had put so much work into training him, even waiting for him to reach 14 before competing in any of the big tournaments. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy this, it was just... the team always came first.  _ Winning  _ came first. 

“I’m aware of what the military does,” Emperor says tersely, crossing his arms. “But I see no reason to join when there are turf war leagues far beyond the level we’re competing in now. I know we’re good enough to play professionally and it’s what we’ve all planned on doing since we began practicing together. I see no reason to derail ourselves when our path is so neatly laid out before us.”

The older squid smiles wryly, as if he’d been anticipating that answer. He pulls a chair over, sitting close to their group and leaning in. "I understand. You’ve all clearly worked your suction cups off getting to where you are. It’s something to be proud of, and you want more. You want to keep winning. But,” he holds up a finger, “I'm gonna let you in on a secret, here. If you love turf war,  _ really  _ love it, you're not gonna like the big time. The professional leagues are a charade. There's no fair play, no legitimacy. Behind every match there's money changing hands, people making sure you'll take the fall if they tell you to, and if you don’t, you’re outta there. That’s what’s waiting for you.”

Emperor’s expression remains unchanged, but out the corner of his eye he can see Eging frowning to himself and playing with a loose string on his shirt, and even Pacer’s normally cool facade shows cracks as she chews on her straw, her ears drooping a bit. Prince keeps glancing between all three of them, shoulders hunched. “We’re better than all that,” Emperor says. “We don’t need the money, we’re only here to prove we’re the best. We’ve dealt with cheating, bottom-feeding scum plenty of times.” Privately, he finds it difficult to believe. What was this man if not another salesman, trying to make a pitch. Part of him simply doesn’t want to believe things are that bad, that rotted to the core, that the athletes who he’d admired since he was old enough to hold a Splattershot really were as fake as the cardboard standees decorating this sports bar. He simply wouldn’t believe it, not without seeing it himself. 

That mildly-amused smile never leaves Naso’s face. “Just something to think about. You’ve all got a lot of potential. Some of you might be the most skilled I’ve ever seen, and I’d be remiss not to try and give you a heads-up, let you know there’s other options. Be terribly sad to see such bright young stars burn out.” He looks to each of them in turn as another peal of thunder sends the wine glasses jingling. The lights flicker briefly, not going out, merely dipping. 

Emperor’s expression darkens slightly, eyelids lowering.  _ Some of them? _ They were all equally talented, they merely had different strengths, and ultimately their cooperation made them stronger than the sum of their parts, whatever minute imbalances might exist. He knew his team better than this stranger ever could. “We’ll decide our futures on or own, thank you. I don’t think we have anything more to talk about.” 

Naso stands, taking four brochures from his bag, his smile a tinge sadder. “I’m sure you will. Good luck with whatever you decide to go with. I know you’ll make the right choice.” He lays them on the table nearest to the door then picks up his umbrella, stepping back out into the storm. 

“...we  _ really  _ need to go to you sister’s next time,” Pacer murmurs as soon as the doors swing shut. “We wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of thing. Pearl’s got way more security.” 

“Don’t let it get to you too much.” Despite his words, Eging seems a bit shaken, though he’s finally snapped that thread off. He flicks it away. “I’ve seen those guys around the tournaments, talking to the contestants after matches. It’s probably not as bad as they say it is.”

“Even if it is, we’ll rise above it. We’re better than the rest of them, we won’t sink to that level.” Emperor looks over to Prince, who was pretending to be interested in his food again. “You’ve been quiet. Is everything okay?” 

Prince nods, his eyes settling on the brochures fanned out on the far table. His brother tended to be guarded with his emotions, but there’s concern evident in his voice. No suspicion, no anger, which only made it worse to consider letting him down. Letting all of them down. He couldn’t help his misgivings, his fears that the worst of the storm was yet to come, and that the waters might be deeper than they seemed. “Yeah. I just... didn’t have anything to say. You’re right, though. I’m sure we’ll be fine.” 

 


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each member of the team gets a chance to react to what they've learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I wasn't planning on a second part but it's difficult to give equal treatment to all the characters when they're all in a scene together. Now they each get a chance to play off someone else in their family.

“Dad?” 

Eging Jr. lies back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, phone to his ear. Even with all the lights in his room turned on and his curtains closed, the lightning flashing outside tosses trembling shadows across the walls, across the tournament posters and models he kept meticulously dusted. 

His father, Eging Sr., had been given a spot on a region-wide sports highlights show doing commentary, and not even a storm of this calibre was enough to discourage him. He didn’t let things like the weather get him down. Said he’d seen plenty of storms already and this one was far from the worst. _ “Hey kiddo.”  _ He sounds cheerful, if a bit rushed.  _ “Keeping dry?” _

“Yeah,” Eging tells him. “I just, I wanted to ask you about something that’s been bugging me.”

_ “Sure, what’s up?” _

“You’ve been doing professional turf stuff for a long time... Is it, like, legit?”

_ “Legit?” _

“Yeah, is there a lot of cheating, staged matches and gambling, stuff like that?”

His father chuckles, sounding sheepish. “ _ Why do you ask?”  _

“I... I dunno, I just heard some stuff.”

_ “Well... It’s complicated, things like that do happen sometimes but you shouldn’t let it discourage you from competing if that’s what you really want to do. Don’t worry about the serious stuff so much, you know. Just try to have fun.”  _ Dad said that all the time. Just have fun, don’t worry. Normally Eging didn’t mind hearing it, and maybe it was just a bit hurried due to the commercial break ending soon, but it strikes him as rather dismissive. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I’m trying.”

_ “Good luck, I gotta get back to the desk. We’ll talk about it more in the morning, yeah?” _

“Okay.” 

_ “Love you, kiddo. Hang in there.” _

“Love you too.”

* * *

Pacer sits at the kitchen table, watching rain streak down the glass windows leading out to the balcony. The city beyond is shrouded in gray fog, a gloomy constellation of lit windows, other people trapped indoors while the hurricane bore down on the city. Her older sister, Acerola, was rarely home, but her apartment building had lost power, and all her friends were weathering the storm elsewhere so she had nobody to stay with but her family. 

Acerola sits with one leg crossed over the other on the couch, TV turned to a reality show, muted with the captions scrolling across the bottom as she looks at something on her phone. Her reddish-orange tentacles are tied up and she keeps reaching back to fix them. “Sorry, who told you this, again?”

“Some guy-”

“Since when do you care about what  _ some guy  _ thinks?”

“No,” Pacer shakes her head, frowning at the shiny glass surface of the table. “He was a military recruiter. He walked in while we were having a team meeting. I thought it was strange, but I’m sure he tracked us down on purpose.”

“Creepy. But you guys were hanging out in a sports bar in the middle of a storm, that’s kind of weird too.”

“It’s not the same degree of weird. He acted like he was warning us about the way turf wars worked in the professional leagues. He said it was all... fake. It was staged, there wasn’t any skill involved.” 

“...yeah?” Acerola raises her eyebrows.

Pacer looks over. “What do you mean, yeah?” 

“I just... Does it really matter?” 

Pacer stares at her. Her sister had not been nearly as serious about turf, but then, few Inklings were to the degree team Emperor was. Surely she could at least understand the importance of fair play, especially to people who worked so hard to hone their skills and coordination. 

Scoffing lightly, Acerola goes on, “Is that kid stuff really going to be fun for you in a few years? Think about it. I would rather just put on a show knowing I was going to get paid. It’s more about personality than skill, like being an actor. You get rich doing commercials and then you retire while you’re still young and hot. I’d watch a high school game if I wanted to see people actually  _ try _ .”

In spite of herself, Pacer feels tears sting her eyes, though she does her best to keep her expression neutral. It wasn’t even that what Acerola said was necessarily wrong. Who could know how she’d feel in the future? But it was important to her  _ now _ , and she didn’t want to doubt her own love of the thing she’d dedicated so many hours to. “Nevermind,” she manages, angrily wiping her face with her sleeve. “Forget I said anything.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you went out there.” 

Emperor tosses a glance at his brother as he rinses ink and rainwater out of his detached roller tank, sleeves rolled up. His heavy-duty raincoat had been tossed in the drier, unable to stand up to the force of the hurricane. The tennis courts he’d been painting, visible through the huge windows facing the breakfast nook, had already been washed clean. “I got tired of pacing. I had to do something. A king does not rest on his laurels.”

“Mm.” Prince rubs at his eye with his fist, sitting backwards on the couch, kneeling on the cushions and resting his arms across the top. It was past noon and he was still in his pajamas. Despite his dedication to the team, it was difficult for any Inkling to overcome their nature, the tendency to be indolent, distractible. Given the circumstances, it was acceptable to lapse a little. Prince never complained, never made excuses. Once the storm was over, things would go back to the way they were.

“I’m just worried that if you keep doing this you’re not going to have any energy when the rain finally clears up.”

“That won’t happen.” 

“Are you sure? I know practice is really important but it’s dangerous out there...” 

“I was fine, wasn’t I? Have a little faith in me.”

“No, it’s not that...” Prince rests his chin in his folded arms. “Are you upset about what that army guy said? Because you’re usually not  _ this  _ serious. You weren’t practicing this hard during last year’s storm, or like... three days ago.”

Emperor’s shoulders stiffen, and he reaches up to turn the water off. His pointed ears lie back against his head, more than he usually cared to show. As he’d pushed his Roller through puddles, buffeted by winds that threatened to bowl him over, Naso’s words had run through his mind. His parents had encouraged his love of the game, commissioned him and his team custom gear, extolled his skill and determination and told him just how far he would go if he kept at it. Surely they would know. His father owned Enperry for goodness’ sake. Why would they act like this if there was nothing waiting for him?

It couldn’t be true. He’d wrestled with the contradiction, staring up at the ceiling from his bed until the clouded sky finally lightened from black to gray. It was completely undignified to be tossing and turning like a hatchling having a nightmare, and he hated that he’d been reduced to this. That he wasn’t strong enough to simply put it out of his mind, the words of somebody who didn’t matter, who he might never see again.

“...I have my reasons. We’ve got tougher opponents this year than ever before. Do you think they’re sitting around doing nothing?”

He hears Prince sigh. “I don’t know... Aloha’s team was posting pictures of them all playing indoor minigolf. I guess that’s not nothing.” A pause. “Why don’t we invite Eging and Pacer over? We can play video games together. You wouldn’t have to think about what happened at Roughie’s.”

“I’m not thinking about it.”

“Okay.” 

* * *

Rain falls like tiny shooting stars, caught in the mansion’s floodlights outside the window. The eye of the storm is past and the winds are back in full force, howling and tearing at the palm trees in the darkness. Unfortunately, the intensified weather meant Pacer and Eging hadn’t been able to make it over, and Prince had been on his own the rest of the day.

“Where the hell’s that brother of yours?”

Prince looks up at his father. Emperor took after the man in appearance, even from behind. Standing with his hands on his hips he looked just like a lord surveying his lands. Their ink color was the same, too. Prince naturally shared his elder sister’s pink, though he kept it yellow when he was in public. Better for the team to have a unified appearance. Build the brand, as dad always said. Prince had gotten caught up watching things get blown around the tennis court, distracted from the reading assignment he was supposed to be doing. “I don’t know.”

“Is he outside again? I swear that kid is gonna give me a triple heart attack.”

“He said he wanted time alone...” Emperor wouldn’t want their dad to think he was anxious about the tournament, or about anything for that matter. “...I bet he’s just restless. The storm’s been going on a while...”

“Well, not like this is his first storm. Dunno what’s got him all worked up, this house’s stronger than a bank vault.”

“Yeah,” Prince mumbles, resting his cheek against his knuckles. If Emperor had gone out again Prince was pretty sure he would have said so. He was probably just locked in his room. “Dad... I, something happened a few days ago and I wanted to ask about it.”

His father’s attention seems to be on something outside the window, maybe watching the waving palm trees, wondering if any more were going to fall on his property before the storm was over, what other costly damage might be done. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I met this guy who said he was a military recruiter.” Prince didn’t want to implicate his brother in this, or the rest of the team, because his father would surely talk to their parents about this. “He-”

“Oh, right, that reminds me. Did you look at those pamphlets I gave you?”

“...yeah, I did, but I wanted to ask... Why’d you tell me I should go to military school? Why that instead of anything else?”

His father gestures vaguely at the window, shrugging. “I, well, I went to military school when I was about your age. I found it extremely fulfilling, met some great people there. And you remember what I said, sometimes it just doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying turf wars very much...”

“Is that really why?”

“What are you asking, Prince?”

What  _ was  _ he asking? It wasn’t like his father had lied to him. That was all perfectly sound reasoning, and sometimes Prince did have his doubts about whether he was really having  _ fun  _ at all these competitions. It always felt like the people around him knew more than he did, knew better than he did and it was best to just go along with what they said he should do, whether it was his dad or Emperor or his friends. Military school would just be more of the same. He couldn’t deny either that it hurt to think that his father might just not believe he was  _ good  _ enough to promote their stupid brand alongside his brother. 

When he doesn’t reply, his father starts to move away. “Hold that thought, I’ve got some calls to make.” Muttering to himself about the landscaping company and palm trees, he leaves the kitchen, and Prince lays his his head in his arms. In years past, after the storm had ended the city and the world would quiet, shrouded in fog, the absence of the rain like an opened door after a long confinement. But for now at least, it’s comfortable. It feels like there is an excuse to watch and wait, to be unsure, because what else could you do while the hurricane raged? He was safe inside, but the season would end eventually. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot of this ended up being highly Relatable, particularly Pacer's part for me because I know what it's like to not have your interests taken seriously. I really tried to have the characters react like the privileged teenagers they are, being shaken out of their comfort zones. as cute as Inklings can be, never forget that they are terrible little gremlins.
> 
> if you liked this please let me know what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> yes i know "squids can't swim why would they have a pool" shhhh just look at mahi mahi and new albacore, they have pools
> 
> love the headcanon that pearl is prince and emp's big sister. also this takes place pre-manga!
> 
> not much else to remark upon other than that i wish the manga did a little worldbuilding


End file.
